


Like Drowning

by Shimegami



Category: Free!
Genre: 5 Times, 5 kisses, Angsty love martyr!Makoto, Happy ending floof, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 13:58:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shimegami/pseuds/Shimegami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto has always been by Haruka's side, and he will always continue to be.  Even if following Haruka leads him to drowning, he will still do it.  That's how it's always been, and how it always will be.</p><p>AKA Five Times Makoto Kissed Haruka, and the One Time Haruka Kisses First.  Prompt fill from the kinkmeme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Drowning

**Author's Note:**

> De-anoning from my kinkmeme fill, woot woot. I seriously didn't mean for Makoto to turn out this way, but man, is he really easy to write into Angsty Love Martyr!Makoto, like some kind of magic girl. But I refuse to let my baby have a broken heart for long!
> 
> First time writing Free!, I apologize for any wildly OOC moments.

\-------

The first is when they are ten years old. Both of them are lounging around listlessly on the living room floor, watching some random movie that's been playing for the past half-hour. It's fall, so it's chilly, and the sky is overcast outside with a cold drizzle of rain, and Haruka had already had his allowed amount of recreational bathtime today, which was the only reason he was watching TV in a daze with his best friend rather than in the water somewhere.

Makoto is secretly pleased to be spending time with his friend in a way that doesn't involve water. Then he feels guilty because Haruka loves water and he's a bad friend for wanting to separate them sometimes. It's a common cycle of feelings for Makoto, so he shoves them back and focuses on the mediocre movie.

It's finally reached some sort of climax, since the male and female leads are now confessing their eternal undying love and kissing. At least Makoto's old enough now that his mother has stopped covering his eyes at these parts.

"Kissing looks weird." Haruka's disinterested voice drifts up from where he's lying facedown on the floor, head propped up on his folded arms. His neck is going to hurt later, Makoto will have to tell him to roll over soon because otherwise he'll spend the evening frowning and rubbing at it.

Makoto blinks as he considers the statement. In a way, Haru's right, it _does_ look weird. And kind of gross - who wants to mush their lips together like that? It's probably all germy too. Makoto certainly doesn't want to kiss any of the girls he knows from school. On the other hand, all the adults seem to like doing it, so there must be some redeeming feature...right? He decides to put this into words. "Well, everyone does it, so there must be something good about it, right?"

Haru merely makes a disinterested grunt. "Still weird."

That would be Haru's way of dismissing the conversation, and Makoto thinks it's for the best, but for some reason he's curious. Maybe he just really wants to know why adults do it all the time, why the movies make such a big deal out of it. And he certainly doesn't want to try it with the girls - they're all...weird. His mother says he'll get over it, but he doesn't think he'll ever like girls. So, if he can't kiss them, then the only person he has to try it with is Haru.

He scoots over, leaning over his best friend. Looking at Haru's position, he is reminded of his earlier concerns about Haru's neck and gently nudges the other boy to roll over on his side. Haru lets himself be rolled, turning his head to look up at Makoto with a blank stare. On anyone else it would be bland disinterest or outright dismissal, but Makoto has learned to read his friend's expressions, or lack of. Haru wants an explanation. Makoto smiles. "Do you want to try it? To see what it's about, I mean."

Haru blinks very slowly when he's considering something or surprised, so Makoto doesn't know which right now. He gets his answer when Haru shrugs, flopping fully over onto his back and staring up at Makoto expectantly. "Okay."

Makoto hesitates, feeling shy because this is supposed to be...special, right? Something between a mommy and daddy or people who love each other like mommies and daddies. But he does love Haru, and Makoto can't think of anyone else he'd rather give his first kiss to than his best friend. They shared all their firsts, so this one too would be no big deal. So, after that moment of indecision, Makoto leans over and presses his lips to Haru's.

It's softer than he's expecting, and this close he can smell the sea salt and chlorine scent that clings to Haru because it's practically become one with Haru anyways. Haru always smells like _swimming_.

Perhaps there's something more to this kissing thing, because all Makoto really feels is _soft_ and smells Haru, and it feels weird when he feels the ghost of Haru's breath through his nose against his cheek. He pulls back, feeling a little disappointed. Maybe they're just not old enough yet. Or maybe it really does have to be with a girl, or between a couple. Not that Makoto really feels like he would kiss anyone else, getting this close to anyone but Haru and his own family isn't a comfortable feeling.

Haru's brows are furrowed, frowning slightly as he pokes his lips. After a moment, he merely rolls back over on his side and goes back to watching the movie, clearly dismissing the event. Obviously he didn't find it any more pleasing that Makoto did.

Makoto has no real choice but to follow Haru's example, shifting his attention to the screen. He doesn't know why he feels the slightest bit disappointed, because Haru's right, it was weird, so he shoves it back like all the other feelings that he doesn't know how to deal with.

Maybe he'll understand when he's older.

\-------

It was a complete accident.

They're fourteen years old and Makoto is growing fast. Way too fast, like those types of seaweed that grows meters in a day. Makoto is a whole half-head taller than the next tallest person in class...and indeed, is the tallest of his year. Makoto's usually the tallest in class ever since he started going to school, but normally only by a centimeter or two. This drastic difference is new.

It doesn't help that his limbs seem to be competing to outgrow his height, and they're way too long and gangly for his motor coordination. He runs into things, knocks things over, trips over his own feet. He's always been a bit clumsy, and this is just not helping at all.

It also doesn't help that Haruka seems to be having none of these problems. Haruka is growing too, but he never trips, or does anything ungraceful or uncoordinated. Haruka's always been like that, in or out of water, always the picture of perfect fluid grace, like his muscles have spent so much time in the water that they too have become liquid.

It makes Makoto feel twice as ungainly when next to his best friend, now. He'd never be as graceful as Haruka, but it hadn't been so pronounced before. He remembers the others in that swim club, whenever they compared the two friends Haruka was always "dolphin" and Makoto was "orca", because Haruka was slim, quick, and beautiful in the water, while Makoto was bigger and more powerful. But nowadays, Makoto feels like they should just leave the "killer" off and just call him _whale_ , he's so huge and ungainly.

Wait, no, that's an insult to whales. They're very graceful aquatic animals that belong in the water. Makoto's not a whale. He's a freaking _oil barge_ or something. A giant, trawling mess across the surface of the water because he still can't deal well with swimming submerged unless he has to.

These are the thoughts he's entertaining as he stands on the edge of the community pool, watching Haruka do his laps. Haruka gave up competitive swimming, but not swimming completely. The day Haruka stops swimming is the day he dies.

After Haruka crosses the pool once, twice, he suddenly stops and swims over to Makoto. Makoto is a bit surprised, and a little worried, because usually Haruka won't stop until Makoto does everything short of physically hauling him out. The only usual reason he stops on his own accord is if he doesn't feel well.

Haruka looks fine, however, and merely looks up at Makoto when he reaches him, holding out a hand. His eyes are shining, and Makoto realizes that his friend is in rare good humor, enough to drag himself away from the siren call of the water long enough to invite his best friend into it. And really, Makoto could never resist Haruka when he looked at him like that - no smiles, face still as blank as ever, but those _eyes_...so he smiles, laughs a little and leans over to take the hand, starting to lower himself down to get into the water.

Except Makoto proves his new self-identity as an oil barge when his new awkward limbs refuse to cooperate and he slips on the slick pool edge, pitching forward with a yelp. He has a split-second to be grateful that he fell forward instead of backward, the one saving grace of his clumsiness so he won't crack his head open. He catches a glimpse of sparkling water filling his vision, the sparkling not-quite-water-but-might-as-well-be spot of Haruka's eyes widening in surprise before Makoto plows into him and they're underwater.

The first second is sheer panic for Makoto - he's under water, he's _underwater_ and he _doesn't want to be_ \- before he manages to grasp the panic and push it down. He can swim, he's fine. He opens his eyes from where they scrunched closed to brace for impact.

Blue fills his vision. It takes a moment for Makoto to realize it's not the pool water. It's Haru's eyes, wide in surprise, and so _close_. He's never really seen his eyes this close before, and is momentarily stunned by how truly beautiful they are. Haru's eyes have always been beautiful, but Makoto feels like he's seeing them for the first time, and perhaps he is, at least this close. Close enough to see the faint streaks of darker blue interspersed through the lighter shades in a myriad of tones that look like sunlight dancing through crystal clear water.

They're so beautiful that Makoto takes way too long to muddle through the fact that the reason he's seeing them so close is because his face is mashed up against Haruka's, eye to eye, nose to nose...lips to lips. He's kissing his best friend underwater in a freak accident that came out of a manga.

It's different from that experiment when they were ten. This time, once the realization hits, it feels like someone's torched his lips because they feel too hot, or maybe that's just because his body is registering the temperature difference between Haruka's warm body and the cool pool water in a weird way. Maybe that accounts for the tingling, too – his nerves are all weird.

Makoto forces himself to push back, shoving himself towards the surface with a gasp. He can stand, and it's a weird feeling that the water that used to be at his shoulders is now only up to midchest. He tries to focus on that instead of the burning feeling in his lips – and cheeks, too, because he knows he's gone lobster-red.

Haru surfaces a moment later. His expression is back to indifferent, but he's watching Makoto closely, which is his version of worry. Water is sluicing down off his body, little crystal trails of light tracing down the smooth tones of Haruka's well-defined body, and Makoto has to force himself to look away from the sight for some reason. His mouth is dry.

Makoto takes a deep shuddering breath, forcing himself to laugh it back out. “U-Um...s-sorry about that, Haru-chan. I slipped.”

Haru blinks – once, twice, both very slowly. Then he merely shrugs, muscles fluidly rolling in a way that has Makoto look away in a hurry. It's never been like this before. Why is it now? Looking at his best friend shouldn't be an ordeal. He's spared further difficulty when Haruka dunks back under the water and pushes off, swimming back towards his self-assigned lane.

Makoto takes another deep breath, tries to still his shaking hands and splashes water on his face to hopefully erase the blush. He forcibly stops himself from touching his lips.

\-------

The first year of high school, Makoto realizes he may be a little weird.

He'd garnered a small amount of attention at the entrance ceremony for high school – one for his height, because he was already one-hundred-eighty centimeters tall and who had ever heard of a six-foot-tall freshman? The basketball team seriously wouldn't leave him alone. At least he's not so _awkward_ now – he finally hit his stride somewhere in the last quarter of junior high and doesn't run into things or trip so much anymore. He's tentatively back down to “whale” from “oil barge”, at least.

The second is from the fact that he had to stop Haru from swimming in the school fountain in front of the _entire school assembly_. If there was one single day Makoto never wanted to remember ever again, aside from That Day at the river, then his high school entrance ceremony was going to be it.

So Haruka had been pegged as That Water Weirdo from day one, and Makoto had similarly been labeled as the “water weirdo's” Freakishly Tall Caretaker. It would have been nice to go a week without labels, he thinks, but well, he can never really find fault in Haru. Haru being unable to swim is like watching a fish out out of water.

So Makoto tolerates the baths, and having to drag his friend out of them in the morning. He could still do without the public stripping, though. Well, he's there to stop Haruka, after all.

The first week was mainly spent establishing the new social circles of high school. Quite a few classmates were interested in the “water weirdo” and repeatedly tried to talk to Haruka, only to quickly learn that “Nanase Haruka” and “casual conversation” didn't fit into the same sentence. All were quickly driven back by one-syllable answers or disinterested silence, and soon Haruka just became a fixture in the back row that people moved around.

Makoto had more luck in making acquaintances because he didn't react to human interaction with frosty silence, but his refusal to abandon Haruka for lunch or other activities prevented any real friendships. Perhaps he was stifling his high school life...but Makoto couldn't bring himself to abandon Haru. They'd always been together. And sure, maybe Haruka would be fine if he did, maybe even wanted Makoto to leave him alone, but Makoto just couldn't do it.

Maybe because Haruka _would_ be fine on his own. It was one of Makoto's many swirling fears he kept locked away in his heart, that Haruka didn't really need Makoto and would be fine abandoning his friend at a moment's notice. The fear that maybe Makoto was the only one who used “friend” in their relationship.

Makoto knew it was silly, because Haruka _would_ have tossed him aside by now, in a very blunt manner, if he didn't _want_ Makoto around. Still, Makoto couldn't help that niggling worry, so maybe clinging to his friend was his way of alleviating it. As long as Haruka didn't tell him to go away, then it was fine.

Besides, who knew what would happen to Haru if left on his own, especially since his parents had long moved away. He'd probably ditch school to swim and eat fish for the rest of his life.

So his lunches were for Haru, and his afternoons were spent walking Haru home and making sure he did his homework instead of crawling into the bath again. Still, he managed to fit in some social time with his other classmates as well.

And thus Makoto started to feel that he was a little weird.

“Check this out!” One of his male classmates hunched over the desk the majority of the boys were gathered around, grinning mischievously as he spread something on the desk. Makoto was absorbed in making sure Haruka was okay with this forced social interaction, sitting beside Makoto with a look of disinterest, so at first he didn't bother glancing at whatever had been put down until everyone else suddenly crowded around it in a chorus of “ooooh”. Confused as to what could cause such a reaction, Makoto looked too.

It was perhaps telling of how much time he spent with Haru and his swimming that his first thought upon seeing the woman in the barely-there bikini and large breasts was “good for buoyancy but too much drag, and too many straps to be efficient swimwear”.

Makoto then realized _what_ he was looking at and gave a startled little yelp. Haru looked at him in slight curiosity, before looking at what caught his attention. He seemed to admire the swimming theme for a moment, before snorting softly and dismissing it, probably with the same train of thought Makoto had, and going back to looking out the window to daydream.

His yelp unfortunately caught the attention of his classmates as well. “What, Tachibana, you can't tell me you've never seen one of these before!”

Makoto swallowed nervously, unsure of how to respond. Because while yes, he'd _seen_ them before – an unfortunate encounter in his father's closet looking for something – he's never looked through one before. Or, really, understood their purpose. Okay, well, he'd had health class and could make an educated guess, but. He didn't really get _why_. “U-Um...”

This prompted a low wolf-whistle from another classmate – Harada, his name was? - who grinned and poked Makoto's arm. “Who would have taken you for such a pure little girl, Tachibana! Come on, move the goods closer to him, he needs to be front and center!”

“U-Umm..” Makoto tried again, but couldn't seem to get anything past the stutter as the book was shoved in front of him. He stared down at the page, trying furiously to think of a way to politely say he wasn't interested without being thought of as weird...because it was weird, right, for a high school boy to see something like this and have no interest? It just made Makoto feel somewhat shameful for seeing the poor woman so scantily-clad. Not to mention she had to be freezing...

“So, Tachibana, what do you like best? The breasts? The butt? Legs? Somewhere else?” Maybe-Harada keeps poking his arm with a grin, and Makoto tries to find something inoffensive to say. Breasts? No, the only compliment he could think of was the buoyancy one, which was probably not what breasts were meant to be complimented on. The butt was too round, she didn't exercise enough...no, that probably wasn't good either. The legs too. Where was the muscle tone? She probably wouldn't be able to swim a lap in that outfit with that muscle tone before getting exhausted...no, he had to think of something to say! Quick, what was the most positive feature!? Well, the swimsuit pattern was cute, if too little fabric to appreciate it...

“I, er....u-um....t-the pattern's nice...?” Makoto stuttered out, before wanting to smack himself in the face at the blank looks all of his classmates suddenly sported – except Haru, of course, who hadn't looked away from his love affair with the window yet. Makoto was mildly glad for once for his friend's disinterest in social situations unrelated to water.

“The pattern!? Way to evade the question, dude!” The classmate who had produced the magazine snickered. “Come on, don't be shy! What do you like? Me, I like good breasts, don't have to be big, as long as they're soft with a nice shape. What do you think about when you, you know, take care of business?”

Never before has Makoto felt his face turn this shade of red. He's pretty sure Haru could grill his beloved mackerel on his cheeks by now. “U-Um...”

“Hey now, Yamashita, don't push him. It can't be helped if he's a shy little flower. Never would have thought you'd be a late bloomer, though, Tachibana, with your height.” Harada grins, teasing as he flips the page. “Hmmn...if it's me, I rather like this model. She's got a smoking figure.”

The other boys leaned over to appreciate the newly-revealed model, and Makoto did his best to shrink back and try to disappear despite his height. It....it _was_ weird, wasn't it? To look at things like this and feel nothing like...like _that_. The want to touch, to...experience things. Even when he...”takes care of business”, as the so-called Yamashita put it, it was never with a solid image in mind. That was utilitarian, something so he wouldn't embarrass himself in public. At most, whenever he had... _dreams_ , the most he got from them was flashes of skin, water trailing sparkling rivulets down it, and flashes of blue...

Makoto feels his throat go very dry, because it all suddenly comes together in a little click. He _knows_ where he's seen those images before. He just never wanted to admit it, because it was never solid in his dream. As long as there hadn't been a _face_ , a _name_ , he'd just simply forced himself to forget them and move on. But confronted with them in broad daylight, he couldn't ignore it. Not when the source of that skin with water and that endless blue was sitting just to his left, chin propped on his hand as he stared out the window.

Oh no. He's got the hots for his _best friend_. And, if he admits to himself, he has had them for a while. Ever since he fell on Haru in that pool and their lips connected. He's never wanted anyone but Haru.

Makoto really needs to get out of the classroom like _right now_.

He gets up and stammers some excuse about the bathroom, which of course has his fellow classmates in a fit of raucous snickers. Oh, if _only_ that was Makoto's problem!

He chooses to simply let them believe what they want and hurries to the bathroom to compose himself. He _can't_ be in love with his best friend. No....there is no can or can't, he just _is_. And it's useless because the only thing Haru loves is water. There is no room in his heart for anything else, except maybe Rin, because Rin is like the crashing waves in Haru's still pond and since Haru loves water he loves the waves too.

The simple despair he feels at that fact is unfathomable. It's like he's been dropped into the middle of the ocean, with no land around and nowhere to go but the endless dark below him. It's...crushing. It's the only way he can describe it.

But if he doesn't want to drown, he has to swim. And so Makoto does what he's always done with his fear of water – he mashes the feeling up into a little ball, shoves it back, and forcibly ignores it. Because if he wants to stay with Haruka, he has no choice, and he knows that no matter how scary it is or how much it hurts, Makoto will follow Haru until he has no choice but to drown. That's how it has always been and always will be.

So Makoto collects himself, returns to the classroom with a smile, and manages, somehow, to get through the day. It's okay to let everyone think he had an embarrassing reaction to a nudie mag because it's infinitely better than everyone realizing the truth, so he can deal with the embarrassment. And he eats lunch with Haruka and walks him home and does homework with him just like normal, because, well, no matter his feelings, it's always been easy to be around Haruka. Even if he drowns someday, he can just float for now.

That night, he has the most vivid wet dream he's ever had, because for once he sees the person in full and every detail is clear and precise, and it's all Haruka, Haruka, _Haru_. He wakes up as he comes, Haru's name on his lips, and he finds himself crying. He cleans himself up and is okay by morning.

Haruka never suspects anything. Even when Makoto shows up at his house the next morning and finds Haru asleep in the tub, and can't help himself as he leans down and presses his lips against the other teen's. Haru is as soft and as unresponsive as the last two times they've met lips.

Makoto pulls back, takes a deep breath, and pushes back the feelings once more as he puts a smile on his face and starts shaking Haru's shoulder to wake him up.

\-------

Rin comes back and it's like a hurricane.

Suddenly Haruka is interested in competitive swimming again. Suddenly Makoto finds himself the captain of the newly-created Iwatobi swim club. Nagisa is all smiles and cheer, and it's hard not to get caught up in his smiles and energy like the old days.

Haruka also seems more alive these days. It makes Makoto happy to seem him so energetic, even if most normal people wouldn't realize the change. It lets him push back and ignore the bitterness that it's _Rin_ who always makes Haru respond like that and not Makoto. It's okay. One day Haruka will leave with Rin to pursue his swimming and perhaps Rin, and until then, Makoto will just selfishly indulge in being his best friend.

It's all he can ask for.

They're on the beach today, now that it's finally warm enough to swim outside. Makoto lets the sea breeze flow over him as he sits on the sand, watching Haruka swim through the ways and Nagisa half-pester, half-flirt Rei into building a sandcastle with him. Gou is also around, apparently being awkwardly hit on by the Samezuka swim team captain. She looks like she's enjoying it, though – or at least enjoying the fact that his being shirtless is giving her a great view of his muscles - so Makoto doesn't interfere.

It's peaceful. He likes it. If only every day could just be like this, instead of the tense competitive energy of competing. Makoto has never liked competing, since he hates causing friction between himself and others. It's why, he's supposing, he's already prepared himself to bow out gracefully from Haruka's affections. Because fighting, losing, and causing a wider rift between him and Haru is far more painful than just giving up.

Makoto watches as Haru dunks under a large wave to come back up on the other side, shaking his hair in that characteristic flip. Haru really does belong in the water, and it's always beautiful to watch him. Makoto himself can't often bring himself to swim in open ocean. Pools were fine, but the wild sea was a different story. There, he supposes, is another reason it's impossible for him.

Somehow while watching Haru swim through the waves like the dolphin he should have been, Makoto drifts off. He wakes up when he feels water droplets hit his face, and he squints his eyes open, groggily wondering when it started to rain.

It's not rain, it's Haruka, leaning over him and watching him carefully. His hair is still wet and is what's dripping onto Makoto's face. Makoto can't help smiling – it's so _Haru_. He probably thinks he's just sharing the wealth of water instead of being rather rude by interrupting someone's nap by dripping on them.

“Haru...?” He asks, voice still drowsy with sleep. Haru blinks, then nods a little, holding out his hand. Makoto takes it and Haruka pulls him to his feet.

“Let's swim.” Haruka states without preamble, using their connected hands to drag Makoto down to the water. Makoto stumbles a bit, rubbing sleep from his eyes with his free hand, and allows himself a childish thrill of pleasure when Haru keeps holds of his hand as they step into the waves.

Haruka's not one for _playing_ in the water much. He prefers to swim. But sometimes he'll forgo the powerful strokes and slicing through the water to indulge in the simple joy of just playing, and now is one of those times, as Haru turns around and, with a blank face, squeezes water in a little jet into Makoto's face.

The splash fight is rather sudden, but Makoto enjoys it nonetheless. It's been a long time since he's just played with Haruka, just enjoyed his company and didn't _think_ about all the weird feelings weighing him down. He feels light in the water for once, like he could swim forever.

It's perhaps because of the feeling of freedom, the feeling that _Haruka_ had dragged _him_ to the water to play and not anyone else, that Makoto did what he does next. He just felt so happy and relaxed that he couldn't stop himself from, the next time the water cleared and he saw Haru's face, eyes shining with his own brand of happiness, leaning over and kissing him.

It's like all the other times, soft and Haru as still as death, this time with an added layer of wet saltiness from the sea. The sharp taste brings Makoto back to himself, and he feels horrible. Haru is staring at him, blue eyes impossibly wide, and Makoto feels the rift suddenly between them as if it had opened up under his legs.

“I'm so, so sorry...!” He manages to blubber before turning and running as fast as the water will let him back towards the shore. He doesn't stop until he reaches his towel, falling to his knees onto it, scrubbing at his face harshly.

He is so _stupid_.

He remains on the towel until the sun drops in the sky and everyone decides to head home. By now he's able to regain his smile and wear it like armor. Haruka finally comes back from his home in the waves, and when he acts like nothing ever happened Makoto feels the rift grow more even when he's desperately happy that he hasn't lost that last fragment of Haru's companionship, even if he may have lost everything else.

\-------

It is not a surprise when, approaching summer, Haru announces he's going for an international swimming competition with Rin, although it is sudden. Rin and Haruka's relationship had slowly been improving over the months, and it felt like the rifts of their childhood friendship were healing. Rin even deigned to talk to Makoto and Nagisa now, instead of dismissing them. It felt like, slowly, a balance was being achieved once again.

Except, of course, between Haru and Makoto.

Makoto smiled and did his best to be supportive, because he would be a good best friend even if it killed him. Haru acts like the kiss in the ocean never happened, and Makoto is determined to follow his lead, because any other course of action would probably drive Haruka away. At the very least, he's still got Haru's friendship, no matter how much more of a _ritual_ it is nowadays than an actual friendship. He refuses to lose this last piece of Haru until he's forced to, so he goes through the days like a robot, smiling and caring for Haruka as always, as the days to Haruka's departure tick closer.

It stays that way until they're standing in the airport, Rin having already gone ahead to board. Haru is dawdling, however, which is weird because the only one here is Makoto, since Rei and Nagisa have already left. Makoto feels like Haru wants to talk about something, but he's not quite sure he wants to hear it.

Haruka, after staring at a display of dolphin stuffed toys for a good fifteen minutes, finally turns around to face Makoto. Makoto just wants to run away, he's a horrible coward. He's a _friend_ , he needs to hear his best friend out. No matter how much it hurts him personally.

Haru takes a breath, opens his mouth, pauses, then purses his lips. It's rare for Haruka to ever hesitate when speaking, since he usually thinks every word over before it leaves his mouth. Haruka sighs slightly before retrying.

“Makoto...” Haru starts, then trails off again. It's so obvious that Haru, poor, socially-oblivious Haru has no idea how to handle the fact that Makoto kissed him, or how to handle the invisible distance between them now. _Makoto_ doesn't even know how to handle it, so of course Haru doesn't, because Makoto's always been the bridge between Haru and the rest of the world socially. So whatever Haruka comes up with to say, it will probably be blunt, and sound far more uncaring than it is, and that's kind of the last thing Makoto feels like he wants to hear. He doesn't want to have to hear Haru awkwardly tell him that he's just a _friend_ , try to coldly explain that he can't feel for Makoto like that, and he especially doesn't want to hear Haru say sorry, because Haruka only says it when he is really serious. Makoto wants to hear none of these things, and Haruka's going to be leaving for three months once he stops distracting himself with Makoto and actually gets on the plane, so Makoto feels that maybe it'll be enough time for Haru to forgive him for what he does.

Wanting to stop whatever Haru's going to say, because he doesn't need the words to confirm a broken heart, Makoto just takes Haru's face in his hands and kisses him.

Up to this point, Makoto hadn't really put _effort_ in all the kisses they'd shared before. One was an experiment, one was an accident, and the last two were impulses. But this kiss, Makoto wants to convey _everything_. He's tired of hiding his feelings, of squishing them down as if they don't exist. He's still afraid of water. He's still horribly jealous of Rin and desperately lonely and so very much in love with Haru, but he knows he can't say the words. Saying them will be like giving up, somehow, and it will break him. So, everything, all the swirling hidden depths he tries to hide from the world, he tries to convey through the kiss to Haru.

It's different than the ones before. The others were soft, barely-there things. This is hot and heavy and too close, and it's the last thing he should probably be doing in a crowded airport, but he can't care. Haru is surprised, gasping softly against Makoto's mouth, not just an unresponsive wall for once, and Makoto wonders why he ever thought this was _weird_ , because he'd kiss Haru forever if he could.

But he can't, it's not his place. So before he loses himself and goes too far, he forces himself to pull back, taking a deep breath of air. He wants to apologize, to beg forgiveness until Haru forgets what he did and they go back to normal, but the words won't come out.

So Makoto just turns and runs, not even looking at Haruka or his expression, because if he does and sees the rejection there he really will drown in the sea of despair he feels like he's been swimming forever in.

He's barely treading water as it is.

\-------

Haru's gone for three months, and it's like the world itself is a little more gray.

The sky and sea aren't as blue without Haruka's eyes to compare them to. Life itself is just a little more dreary.

Makoto only has himself to blame, and has resigned himself to his colorless world. Maybe one day he'll even get over it and find someone new. That's a far-off pipe dream, because even now, he loves Haru. He's given up, but he still loves him.

He doesn't know the exact day Haru's getting back. Normally he knows everything about Haru, but maybe it's time to withdraw himself from Haru's life some. He seems to be doing just fine with Rin, anyways. He hasn't called or texted anyone, but Gou confirmed through her brother that both are fine and dominating the other teams, which was only natural. Makoto hopes that his natural caring nature will recover enough for him to be happy for them when they get back.

Living in his little self-imposed haze and not knowing that date, Makoto didn't know that Haru had come back until there was a ring at the doorbell when his parents were out with the twins and Makoto was home alone. When he answered the door, there was Haru. Slightly more tanned, maybe a tiny bit taller, but still Haru in every detail, staring up at Makoto with expectant blue eyes that are a clearer blue than any water or sky could ever hope to be.

Makoto feels like he's been a desert for ages and suddenly flung into a cold pool. The sudden sting is almost as welcome as the refreshing feeling of seeing _Haru_ again. It's all he can do to stare dumbly at the teen at his doorstep, until Haru huffs slightly and just nudges himself past Makoto into the house, as at home here as his own.

Makoto follows because he doesn't know what else to do, barely remembering to shut the door behind him. He thought Haru would never want to see him again.

Haruka makes his way to Makoto's bedroom with the ease of long familiarity, going into his room and looking around in mild interest, picking out a new book Makoto had gotten trying to distract himself. Makoto just stands in the doorway and watches him, feeling like this was a weird dream he make wake up from at any moment, and doesn't want to upset the balance in case he does.

Still, something has to move forward, so Makoto clears his throat, licks his lips and hopes his throat won't betray him, and manages a tentative “Haru...?”

Those blue eyes refocus on Makoto, and Makoto almost regrets it, because he has no idea what to say now that he actually has Haru's attention. He's still trying to adjust to the fact that Haru is back, in his room, as if the whole airport disaster hadn't happened.

The silence stretches on, Makoto can't bring himself to break it again, and he starts looking around, to find anything to look at other than Haru. When he finally settles on a stray sock lying on the ground near his closet – geez, when was the last time he cleaned, his room is kind of a _mess_ \- he hears a soft sigh, and suddenly Haru's legs appear in his line of vision.

“You're an idiot.”

Makoto finds himself looking up involuntarily, meeting Haru's eyes in confusion. He frowns, a bit baffled. Well, yes, he kind of is for not just keeping his feelings to himself and letting them die an honorable death like they should have, but Haru doesn't mean that, does he?

“Why?” He manages. Haru blinks slowly, just once this time, before sighing softly, like he does when he thinks Makoto's being insufferably slow to pick up on whatever seems to make perfect sense on Planet Haru.

He's shocked into further confusion when Haruka suddenly cups Makoto's face with his hands and pulls him down to his level and kisses him.

It's a lot different when Haruka's an active participant in the kiss. It's still soft, but slightly chapped this time from too much sun and seawater, and he moves his lips gently against Makoto's in a way that makes his knees feel like seaweed and he whimpers softly. Somehow his hands have found their way in Haru's hair, he doesn't know when, and the silky texture hasn't changed at all.

The kiss seems like it goes on forever – and considering their lung capacity as swimmers, it probably did go on for quite a while – but it still feels like it was only a second before Haru gently pulls away, adding just a hint of a bite at Makoto's lower lip that makes him whimper again. They stand there for a moment, breathing softly, just staring at each other, and Makoto is too dazed to really feel anything except surprise. “Why...?”

“That's why you're an idiot.” Haru states simply, with just a hint of fondness in his voice that usually only Makoto hears. “You just ran away and never _asked_.”

Oh. No, no he hadn't. He'd just thought that, with Haru's lack of response and how he lit up around _Rin_....wait. “....Rin?” He manages to get out, because he _will_ let Haruka go, he promised that much to himself.

“Rin?” Haruka's voice is a tad confused, as if he's baffled as to how Rin ever got into this conversation in the first place. “He's a friend. And he's sweet on that Nitori underclassman of his.”

Makoto blinks in surprise – the name Nitori brings up a vague flash of silver hair, ah, that one, Rin was...? But...Makoto can't quite bring himself to grasp what Haru's really saying. “B-But...you always, with Rin....”

“He challenges me. He makes me push against the water, push against myself. It's a good feeling, but that's all it is.” Haru states matter-of-factly, as if anything else was unacceptable. “He doesn't, however, come to get me out of the tub, or make sure I eat, or knows what I really want to say. He's not the one who may as well be my other half. The one I love is the person who makes me feel like that, the one who reminds me that living is more than just water.”

He says it all with such surety and conviction that Makoto has no choice but to believe him. A hand, Haru's hand, starts stroking Makoto's cheek, and his face is so soft and gentle that Makoto feels his breath catching at the rare display of emotion. There's suddenly a boat in the sea, and it's pulling him to safety from the depths, he's _saved_ , and he doesn't know what to do with himself suddenly. He'd thought...no, Haru was right. He was an idiot. He should have just _asked_ , because even he didn't know every nuance of Haruka's mind. Yet.

He feels tears well up in his eyes, but the sob chokes into laughter instead, he's just so _happy_ , and Haru has one of those little smiles that happen so rarely that each one is one of Makoto's treasures, little glittering gems in his memory, and he can't stop himself from leaning down to kiss Haru again, who welcomes Makoto into his embrace like the ocean does for him.

The world is suddenly blue again.

\-------


End file.
